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The adopted daughter

and other tales
  
  
  
  

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CAST OUT THE WINE.
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225

Page 225

CAST OUT THE WINE.

BY ALICE CAREY.

Why sit you idle here?
Rough grows the sea—
Lash the helm instantly—
Tack to the lee.
Hark, as the wind swept by
Fearful and dread,
Heard you the watchman cry,
Breakers ahead!
Death, death is in the reet—
Sharp is each crag—
Haul the rent canvass in—
Strike the proud flag!
Look, did the angry sky
Shake out the stars,
Light came so blindingly
Through the ship's spars.
Heave out the treasure from
Deck-plank to hold,
All the rich merchandize,
Spices and gold:

226

Page 226
Still are the gaping waves
Fearfully tossed—
Cast the wine overboard,
Else we are lost.
There, now the vessel's clear,
Now we are right,
Look for the beacon star,
Look for the light!
That was the watchman's cry—
“Morning is red,
Fresh breezes springing up,
Land, land ahead!”
Haste, set the swelling sail
Full to the breeze,
Now our ship gallantly
Ploughs through the seas.
Mariner, tempest-tossed
On the rough brine,
Would you sail steadily
Cast out the wine!